


Make the world a better place.

by WhatsThisButtonDo



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F, Iron Man AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-27 00:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14413308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatsThisButtonDo/pseuds/WhatsThisButtonDo
Summary: Jemma Simmons has taken over Stark Industries and searches for a suitable pilot for her new armored suit.





	Make the world a better place.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me get this out right away, this is a back burner type story, it is something I've been writing tiny bits for whenever I'm stuck on _Jem in the Skye_ , which will continue to be my main fic. This most likely will be multi-part, and probably will be kinda shit, seeing as how I sometimes write one sentence for it in a span of three days while focusing on _JitS_. Hope you like it anyway, humble folk of the Skimmons ship.
> 
> Will probably change the title, I couldn't come up with a good one so I just wrote some shit down...
> 
> MPD = Multi-Purpose Display  
> WCA = Warnings Cautions and Advisories  
> Fitz AI Is different from Jarvis AI in name only.

"None of this will matter if I can't find a pilot, Fitz." Jemma sighs, twisting the wrench in her hands.

"Why not pilot it yourself, Ma'am?" Fitz, Jemma's advanced AI. He spoke with a posh British accent.

Jemma sighs, "We've been over this Fitz, it's not for me."

"We've been through all the top pilots in the United States _and_ NATO allied countries. You rejected them all." Fitz sounds a little frustrated.

Jemma is exasperated. She had dedicated the last four years of her life to this suit, she wasn't about to hand it over to the U.S. or _any_ government. "What about the private sector?"

"You mean private military contractors?" Fitz sounds incredulous.

Jemma sighs, "Maybe, it might be our last option. Also look for retired pilots." She knew it was a long shot, pilots generally didn't retire unless they were forced too. Be it because of age, injuries, or some other issue that prohibited them from flying. Jemma turned her attention back to her suit. She _would_ find the right person, she just knew it.

***********************

"Oi! Daisy!" Daisy turned to the voice, her copilot. Lance Hunter, the second best pilot she'd ever met. "You ready to get this show on the road?"

Daisy turned her head, she was sitting in the back seat of a prototype helicopter, its official name too long and full of random numbers and letters to remember. Her forehead and neck were already sweating in the blistering heat of Arizona. "Yeah, preflight is already done. Just waiting for you, boss."

Lance climbs into the front seat and closes the door. Daisy went through the motions of starting the prototype. Pushing the throttle to 'Idle' she listened to the twin turbos whine. Letting the engines warm up she turned her attention to the MPD panels in front of her. Setting up her nav console on the right and WCA page on the left.

Completing her set up and triple checking to make sure everything was in place. Daisy moved the throttle up to 'Fly' and disengaged the rotor brake. Daisy listened carefully as the engine's pitch changed, and watched the rotor spins up above her head. Daisy watched the RPMs, once at an acceptable level she raised the collective, having previously gotten clearance. Daisy raised the prototype attack helicopter into a hover, getting a feel for the weight of the helicopter.

Daisy pitches forward and gains some speed. For the next few hours, Daisy pushes the prototype to its limits. She does mock combat scenarios, banking hard. Eventually, once all of the tests are complete she lands back at the helipad. Walking through the shutdown procedure she sees the master caution flash on the display before the fire panel lit up. The left engine had caught fire. "Fuck!" Daisy cuts the fuel to the engine, shutting it down and starving the fire. Pressing a button on the fire panel, she heard the hiss of the fire suppression system activate in the engine. Daisy leaned forward in the cockpit and craned her neck around, checking the engine.

Relieved to see the fire out, she finished her shutdown procedure. Once the rotors were spun down the ground crew approached. Daisy accepted help down and walked over to Coulson, her boss.

"The hell happened?" Coulson asked as she approached.

"You tell me, it's your bird." Daisy shrugged "Also, it's too heavy. The collective is sluggish on the uptake and it takes to long to perform maneuvers. Won't do in a real combat situation. Up the power or shed the weight." Daisy started to walk towards the hanger "I'll be in the breakroom if you need anything. Successful flights always make me peckish!" Daisy knew her advice carried weight, whatever she told Coulson would find its way up to the engineers. They wouldn't be happy about being told the bird wasn't good enough, but they would hear it.

***********************

"Ma'am?" Fitz's voice cut through the music, "Miss Potts is approaching, I recommend you tell her about the suit, she-"

"Mute." Fitz's voice is abruptly cut off. Jemma walks out of the room she stores the suit in, doors silently closing behind her. She sees an admittedly attractive redhead standing at the glass partition separating her shop from the rest of the house with secure, four inch thick, practically nuke resistant, 'glass'. Jemma stood and watched as her assistant tapped the glass, a keypad pops up and she types in a series of numbers. Looking up and forward with a blank expression, waiting the split second it took for the computer to authorize her.

Pepper was practically staring at Jemma, but Jemma knew the other woman couldn't see her. The glass was clear from the shop outwards but on Pepper's side of the glass, all she saw was a matte black wall.

The keypad beeped and the door hissed open, Pepper's eyes focused on Jemma.

"Hey Pep. Whats up?" Jemma asks nonchalantly.

"Whats UP??" Pepper sounded exasperated. "Well, our stock dropped another ten points. Making that... let's see..." Pepper pretends to count in her head "Oh right! _Eighty_ points in a _week_." Pepper rubbed her tired eyes. "When are you gonna call the press and tell them this was all just a huge prank?" She asks hopefully.

"There's nothing funny about trying to make the world a better place, Pepper." Jemma bit back, she was tired of everyone criticizing her change to Stark Industries. She had quietly ramped down the weapons part of the company for years, making sure to close out existing contracts before completely absorbing the weapons and munitions divisions into other parts of the company. 

Jemma had taken the reins nearly five years ago. Turned out, Jemma was Howard Stark's long-lost sister's second cousin's niece or some super convoluted shit, AKA his only living blood relative. It was quite a shock when Jemma got a knock on her door with two suits standing behind it, telling her that she had been left a controlling interest in Stark Industries in Howard's will. She thought it was a prank, but 36 hours later she was sitting in an overly plush chair in a conference room in LA. The board members tried buying her out, she almost accepted, higher brain functions stunned by the number of zeros on the paper in front of her. She had a crippling student debt, after all, getting two Ph.D.'s and a masters degree from a prestigious college would do that.

Jemma was touching pen to paper, the board members watching like hungry vultures, when she came to her senses. She declined the offer and took control of the company with her majority share, not without a fight though. She went public with her change to Stark Industries just last week. She saw the shitstorm coming from the get-go, but she held her ground. She refocused the expansive weapons R&D divisions on things like medical research. They already had some promising leads on some of the worlds biggest illnesses and diseases, but of course, the media spoke nothing of it.

"Did you just come down just to yell at me or are you here for something specific?" Jemma's tone was short and clipped. She saw Pepper eye her up before sighing in resignation.

"I came for your lunch order." Pepper was tightly gripping the tablet in her hands.

"Just the usual, anything else?" Jemma saw Pepper's lips press into a fine line as she bit her tongue, and Jemma felt a twinge of regret. Pepper was her most trusted employee, but Jemma saw her more as a close friend than anything else. She sighed and averted her eyes "Sorry, the stress is just getting to me a little bit."

"I understand you want to make the world a better place, really I do. But you could've handled the situation with a bit more..." Pepper sighed as she searched for the right word "... _Grace_ "

Jemma knows this, the press conference when she revealed her plans for SI hadn't gone well. When the press at the conference completely ignored her plans to help the world, instead of putting more weapons into it, she got... _frustrated._ They were bombarding her with accusations, one went as far as to call her a traitor. Of course, the televised conference went viral, and stocks started plummeting that instant.

Jemma sighed again. "Yeah, well." Jemma shrugged, she tried to keep an outwardly indifferent attitude. It helped when the press didn't have anything like weakness or indecisiveness to latch on too. She looked up to her assistant "What's done is done."

Pepper sighs and does a half nod with a slightly sour chuckle. "Sure." She moves to turn around "I'll be back down with your lunch order in a bit." Jemma watches Pepper leave. Once the door is closed Jemma turns back into the shop.

"Fitz." She calls into the empty room.

"That went well." She hears in response

Jemma decidedly ignores her AI and wonders why she ever gave him a sarcasm setting. "Got anything for me?"

"Yes, actually. I believe I've found a suitable candidate for your pilot."

Jemma sits at her desk and spins in her chair, "Put it up on the screen for me." She says, looking at the transparent glass sitting in front of her. She watches as a file pops up, and reads through it. "Daisy Johnson, 34. Retired US Army." She begins aloud like she does when focused intently on something. "Says here she was discharged with honors but doesn't cite a reason," Jemma says to Fitz.

"Yes, I found that quite odd as well." Jemma shrugs it off, for now, and continues to study the file.

"Chief Warrant officer 3. Primary was the Apache but is also qualified in the UH-60 DAP _and_ OH-58 Kiowa..." Jemma eyes were wide "When was she discharged?" She asks Fitz.

"2015, Ma'am."

"And she joined when?"

"2000."

Jemma scoffed in disbelief, "you're telling me that in fifteen years this woman got two full combat tours _and_ got qualifications in not one, but _three_ helicopters?"

"That's what the records show Ma'am."

"Yeah, about her records. Did you access the DOD records and find why she was discharged?" It was very odd to not be able to find a reason for discharge.

"I did, found nothing."

"Did you use the official channels?"

"I did."

"Did you use not so official channels?"

"No."

"Do it."

"Are you asking me to hack into the Department of Defence?"

"Yes."

"That is a felony. You could be charged with treason and you aren't exactly on the government's good graces. They most likely would chase the maximum prison sentence."

"I know the risks, Fitz."

"Yes Ma'am, I'll get on it right away." He pauses "What will you do in the meantime?"

"I want to meet this woman." Jemma looks back to the monitors, she notices Daisy's photo for the first time. "And of course, she's gorgeous," Jemma mutters.

"I fail to see how that would affect her candidacy."

Jemma shakes her head, "It doesn't Fitz." It doesn't affect Daisy at all, Jemma on the other hand, that was a different story.


End file.
